


Stubborn is as Stubborn Does

by UNCPanda



Category: The Lord of the Rings (Movies), The Lord of the Rings - All Media Types, The Lord of the Rings - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: F/M, OC, Reader Insert, feamle reader, haldir/reader - Freeform, long life, lord of the rings reader insert
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-12-15
Updated: 2017-12-19
Packaged: 2019-02-15 04:20:40
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,893
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13023120
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/UNCPanda/pseuds/UNCPanda
Summary: The word of the day is choice, but for Haldir their is no choice. You are his Fae Gwedh, his soul mate, and he will stand by you forever. You on the other hand, were transported from a very modern world, and a not so great situation, into the equivalent of the middle ages with three brothers. After a hundred years, with little interaction from the outside world, you're more than a little surprised when Gandalf sends you and your three younger brothers to Helms Deep for protection. When the location leads to you meeting an elf, and a touch leads to a bond, you set out on an adventure that you were sure you'd never have. And with more than a few tough decisions ahead, you know things are going to change, and hopefully it will be for the better.





	1. Helms Deep

“I like it here.” 

 

The statement catches you off guard, and your eyes flit to your youngest brother. “And what do you like about a set of caves?” 

“It’s like camping.” 

You smile, “And what do you know about camping?” 

“I’ve been before, with Papa, and Henry, and Will.” You smile at the eight year old. 

“You were very little then, are you sure you remember?” You watch as he nods eagerly, before going off to find the other children his age. Your eyes flit around the caverns of Helm’s Deep. It was filled to the brim with women, and children too young to hold a sword. Your eyes flit to your charge, Sam had narrowly escaped being dragged to the walls. Henry and Will had not been so lucky. 

Not for the first time you cursed whatever had brought you from the comforts of your world to this one. Things had been far from perfect, sure, but they had been better than this. You’re broken out of your thoughts by the sound of a horn. You watch as the lady Eowyn reappears and announces, “The elves have come to our aid!” 

You can feel the hope flood through the caverns but you know it won’t last. Your eyes search for Sam just in time to see him slip past a distracted shield maiden and up the stairs and out of the caverns. You’re on your feet a moment later, moving through the crowds after him. Henry and Will can take care of themselves, but Sam. . . Sam was a soul that was too pure for the world. He’d never met a stranger, and he’d had a morbid fascination with the world they’d been dropped in. 

There’d been no sadness from him. No anger at the loss of a home or their possessions. He’d simply smiled and said, “Well at least we’re together!” 

Eowyn smiles as you approach the door, and it only takes one word to explain things, “Sam.” 

She gives you a sympathetic smile before following you up the stairs. The cold air is an unwelcome addition to the night, and the dark makes it hard for you to find him. It takes nearly a minute to see Sam break out of the crowd to stop in front of the army of elves. The one in the lead looks at him strangely, and you can see the King struggling for some sort of recognition, the last time he’d seen you he’d been under Saruman’s spell, but Sam tended to make an impression. 

You watch, not at all shocked when he holds out his hand and says, “Hi, I’m Sam. I’ve heard that elves are immortal, is that true? And if so, how old are you?”

You slump a bit where you stand, and your eyes flicker to Eowyn who is trying to hold back laughter. You shoot the woman a glare, “He’s trying to kill me.” 

She shakes her head, “He’s merely curious, and asks what the rest of us are afraid to.” 

“And one of these days he will get us killed.” 

You’re getting ready to move forward when he responds, “I am well over 300 years, young one.” 

You watch Sam nod, before responding, “I’m only eight.” 

Laughter fills both sides of the enemies, as Aragorn and another elf appears. Sam’s lips purse and he asks, pointing at the new elf, “Are you older than him?” 

A new ring of laughter breaks out, and the new elf smiles, “He is only older by a century or two.” 

Sam nods, “Interesting.” 

That’s when his eyes settle on you. He smiles and waves, before turning to the elves, “I have to go, that’s my sister’s ‘you’re in big trouble’ look.” 

“And why are you in trouble, little one?” 

“I snuck out of the caves without telling her. But I wanted to see you.” 

He nods, and smiles, “Well it was very nice to meet you, Sam . Shall we return you to your sister?” 

Your eyes stay focused on your brother as the elf takes his hand and leads him up the steps. Your hands stops Eowyn from leaving as Sam breaks from the elf’s hand, gets a running start, and jumps. You catch him in your arms easily, having long grown used to the games he played. You nod to the elf, before Aragorn comes up behind you, “Gandalf sent you this way?” 

You nod, “He paid us a visit on his way out. Apparently his new clothes come with an attitude change as well.” 

Aragorn nods, “The others?” 

“Are around here somewhere. They volunteered to fight.” 

Aragorn smirks, “I don’t imagine that sat well with you.” 

You sigh, “You’ve trained them. They’re of age. They have dreams of grandeur in their heads.” 

“Your distaste for war still weighs heavily on you then?” 

“I’ve stitched you up enough time Aragorn that I know my distaste for things means very little in this world.” 

“And yet your ability to shoot is greater than that of most men. It’s funny how the things we hate always seem to come back to make us fools.” 

“Are we speaking of my hatred for war, or your distaste of your birthright?” 

He smiles, “Both. Would you be willing to fight?” 

You watch Eowyn’s face fall, “You ask me to join a battle when you do so of no other   
woman?” 

“No other woman here has been in battle. And I highly suspect, that you have come prepared for just that.” 

You shift Sam on your hip, before dropping the coy act, “Where do you need me?” 

“Change, and come find me, and I shall let you know.” 

You turn without another word, marching back into the caves before setting Sam down. Ever oblivious you watch him run off, as Eowyn links her arm with yours, “He will let you fight?” 

“Apparently.” 

“You have been to war before? When? I do not remember a war for many years.” 

“It did not take place here.” 

“How do you know Aragorn?” 

“We were introduced many years ago by Gandalf, when he needed aid. He and the other rangers find shelter with us occasionally. They’re who taught Will and Henry how to fight.” 

“And who taught you how to fight?” 

You blink at that question, “Life. Life taught me how to fight.” 

You locate your pack easily, before you slip away to change. The armor that had been given to you was leather. It was easy to move in, and durable. You lip a green tuni on underneath it to provide you with some cover against the cold and wind. You adjust your hair for fighting, before grabbing the bow and arrows you’d hidden earlier. Eyes flit over you as you walk through a parted crowd. Sam stands near the front, holding Eowyn’s hand. You stop in front of him, “You are not to leave Eowyn’s side, do you understand me?” 

He nods, “Come home safe.” 

You nod, before heading out into the wind, Aragorn is waiting for you. “It has been a long time since we have fought together.” 

“Nearly ten years.” 

“And yet you have not changed.” 

“I have . . . a little.” 

“How little?” 

“Perhaps a year, is what Gandalf thinks.” 

“One year for every hundred. And they call me long lived.” 

“It is a curse, Aragorn. We hide away, hope that we are not seen. Or go into a city for a few years until they realize that we are not aging, and then we disappear.” 

“And so on goes the pattern.” 

You nod, “We do not belong with men, we certainly do not belong with elves, what does that leave us with? Dwarves? Hobbits?” 

“I should think the hobbits would welcome you warmly.” 

You shake your head, “We are far from home Aragorn, have been for nearly a hundred years. We fill our days, and we are together. That is what matters.” 

He nods once as you approach the rest of the battalion, “I’ve placed you with the elves. You’re as good a shot as they are.” 

You sigh, “I’ve had enough practice.” 

You walk to the edge of the wall as the lightning starts to flash. And with the first streak you see the first signs of the army. A feeling of dread settles over your shoulders, and you prepare for the oncoming war.


	2. Chapter 2

Your first thought is that it is hard to hear, with rain pouring and the screams of the orcs. It takes a lot of focus to hear through everything, to listen to Aragorn speak in the language of the elves. You know bits and pieces but not everything. That’s when a voice says, “He says to show no mercy.” 

You nod your head in thanks at the sight of the elf, the one your brother had approached earlier. “You are not one for words, are you mortal?” 

“I’ve found that sometime less is more, and in the moments that are perhaps leading up to my death, I’d rather think of my loved ones.” 

“You are a strange woman.” 

You smile, “The word you are looking for, is stubborn.” 

As Aragorn issues out another order he says, “Aim, but hold your fire.” 

You nod, withdrawing an arrow before notching it to the bow. You take several breaths before Aragorn issues an order that needs no translation, you let your arrow fly with purpose. You watch with satisfaction as it hits an orc in the eye. After that there is no talking only fighting. You find it strange the way the elf stays close to you, how when the orcs climb the wall he fights back to back with you. 

Adrenaline floods through your system, and it keeps you from feeling the cold of the rain. It happens as Aragorn calls for a retreat. You see the beast move out of the corner of your eye, and you let the arrow fly. It hits the orc before the orc can hit the elf, whose name you still don’t know. He nods his thanks before sending a dagger in an orc about to strike. You retreat to the keep, and you wait. 

When it’s time to move again you do so. And when you run out of arrows you take to using those that are on the ground. You don’t waste a single one. And when the light shines over the horizon and the riders of Rohan make their appearance, you allow your body to sag just slightly. 

As the rest of the orcs begin to flee the elf turns to you and says, “You fought well.” 

You raise an eyebrow, “For a woman?” 

“For a warrior.” 

You smile at that, and nod before leaning back against the wall. “My name is Haldir. Marchwarden of Lothlórien.” He holds out his ungloved hand and you straighten a bit. 

“Y/N. My name is Y/N.” And with that you place your hand in his. The heat rushes through you a moment later. In a way, it’s as though it’s burning you from the inside out, as it rushes through your blood. Hands steady you, as Haldir starts yelling something Sindarin. When it finishes you straighten your spine to find him staring at you. 

You pull back slightly and your eyes go to a shocked Aragorn. He moves towards you, and you take several steps back, knowing that something big had just happened. When Haldir reaches for you, you take another two steps back. You find other elves there watching you, keeping you from leaving, when Aragorn barks an order, and they move ever so slightly, just enough to let you through. 

You take off at a run. Down to the caves which are now starting to empty. You find Sam at the mouth, next to Eowyn. She frowns at the sight of your face, but before she can say anything, Sam rushes you. You catch him, but this time you stumble ever so slightly. Eowyn’s eyes narrow, as you hug the boy to you. Pulling back, you force a smile on your face and ask, “How about we get some fresh air?” 

He shakes his head, “Sure! I stayed with Eowyn, just like you told me to.” 

You smile, before setting him down, “Good.” 

He nods, and you shoot Eowyn a smile before she turns to help some of the remaining women out of the caves. Sam stays close to your side as you walk the pathways of Helm’s Deep. You can hear the cries of the wounded, and you make sure that Sam can’t look over the wall. 

You’re halfway down when Aragorn appears, and Sam smiles, “Aragorn!” 

He smiles back, “Samuel. How are you?” 

“Good! We’re exploring.”

You watch Aragorn flinch, “That may not be the best idea . . .” 

You stop, “What happened?” 

“A drinking competition has been started.” 

“And you allowed that when there is another battle on the horizon?” 

He looks at you, “They are men, they can decide for themselves.” 

You raise an eyebrow at him, “And I’m sure you’ll tend to them in their fifth hour of throwing up?”

“They can take turns supporting each other. But that is not what I wished to talk about.”

You stop as Sam trudges ahead, “Aragorn . . .” 

“It is important.” 

“Everything is important Aragorn, at least in your eyes.” Your smile is teasing, and he smiles back. 

“Y/N. . .” 

Your name rolls off his tongue, “I’ve read, Aragorn, listened to your stories. Listened to your drunk ramblings about Arwen. I know what it means. It is for that reason I have yet to look.” Your eyes flicker to the gold pattern scribbled across his chest, just peeking out of his tunic. 

“You can’t avoid him forever.” 

You smile, “I’m very good at hiding. I’ve been doing it for nearly a hundred years.”

“Yes, and while I’ve always found that a healthy way to live, have you ever thought about what this could be?” 

“Can’t say that I have, nor that I want to.” 

He sighs, and turns to watch as Sam talks to several men. They’re wounded, but not gravely, and they smile as Sam speaks. “I always find it amazing, the way people light up around him.” 

“He’s been that way since he was a baby. Always smiling, rarely crying.”

“It’s a good ability to have.” 

You look at Aragorn, “It’s one I need to protect.” 

With that, little else is spoken. You dawdle in the remains of the fort for several hours, watching as Sam runs back and forth between people. When he finally starts to tire, he makes his way back to you, and curls into your side. You wrap your arms around him, and allow yourself to drift off.   
You’re woken by the morning sun to find yourself covered in a blanket and Sam gone. You push yourself to your feet, keeping the blanket around your shoulders, and start to look. It’s not an easy task, Sam is small and adventurous, and if you weren’t so sore, and so utterly exhausted you may have started to panic. As it is, you know he’s safe here, at Helm’s Deep. And you were certain of that until you see who he’s with.

It disturbs you a bit that you know him by sight, that you feel the slight tingle as it races through your arms. As you approach he turns and gives you a small smile. You nod, as Sam turns around and beams at you. “Y/N! This Haldir! He was telling me about Lothlórien!” 

You swallow before saying, “That is very kind of him, have you thanked him?” 

Sam does as he is told before rushing off, yet again. There’s several moments of silence before he speaks, “He is very active.”

“Always has been.” 

Another moment of silence passes before he says, “You do not like me.” 

You shake your head, “I am wary of you.” 

He takes a step closer, “What is the difference?” 

“I’ve seen what supposed love has done. It left my mother shattered, it leaves Aragorn with a broken heart, and now I’m supposed to accept that through a mere touch, and the spreading of a mark that I am destined to love you?” 

He shakes his head, “Not at all. Life is made of choices. You may refuse the mark, go far, far away from me.” 

You straighten a bit, “And you would be okay with that?” 

He shakes his head, “No. I have waited over two thousand years to find my Fae Gwedh, the other half to my soul. But if that is what makes you happy.” 

You shift your eyes from his, “I thought the time of elves was through? That you all head to better lands now?” 

“The decision is not set in stone. Many wish to remain, many wish to further our allegiance to the race of man once again. I simply led the first wave. There is a meeting in Lothlórien about the final decision. We shall see if aid comes.” 

“And if it does not?” 

“I will still fight.” It’s at that moment that you realize you have both stepped closer to each other. You close your eyes as he runs the back of his fingers down your cheek, and when you open your eyes you see him smile.

You’re saved from further words when you hear Sam call your name.


End file.
